July 31, 2009
Kichisen 吉泉
I was excited about making my first trip to Kyoto and experiencing the traditional city, and what would be more old-Japan than a traditional kaiseki banquet? But there were many pitfalls, starting with the sky-is-no-limit costs, and stories of restaurants that don't serve foreigners, bland uninteresting food, etc. We've had our share of fine Japanese food so at least we weren't going to be caught out by a strange cuisine. On the other hand, it was still a bit intimidating to make sure we would receive an experience that lived up to our expectations and the expected cost.
Unfortunately Japanese food sites like Tabelog was too much for me to decipher via Google Translate. And I wasn't particularly inspired by the typical names thrown around Chowhound. Ran into the Kyoto Foodie site and was intrigued by the tales of a foreigner who lives in Kyoto, with a good understanding and personal experiences of the local culture and cuisine. He was especially effusive in praise for Kichisen, with many articles featuring the chef and showing off many of the his fine cuisines. But frankly what really sold me was finding out that Tanagawa-san had defeated Iron Chef Japanese Masaharu Morimoto in single combat in Kitchen Stadium. So I carefully composed a polite, but short reservation request in English to make it as easy to understand as possible. Auto-translated it to Japanese just in case. And faxed it off to the restaurant (no Internet reservations here). A couple days later I received a formal, well-composed English reply by email confirming our reservation and requesting us to confirm the price level at which we wished to dine, ranging from 18,000 to 28,000-yen. Flinched a bit at the big numbers, but bit the bullet and chose a medium-level option.
Patiently followed the wife around as she spent the day browsing the shops in Kyoto's old town until late afternoon, before catching a bus out towards Shimogamo Jinga. Would've liked to explore the World Heritage Site a bit, but the temple and the surrounding park already closed at sunset. Not much else to do on the quiet streets of the early evening, we walked over to the unassuming-looking restaurant a bit early.
After the greeter at the door figured out that we were diners with reservations instead of lost tourists, he quickly brought us inside and took us to our private room. We had a hostess and a server, and they were the only other people we would face for the rest of the evening. A warm towel and a cool glass of umeshu was brought to welcome the guests. Then we start the kaiseki tasting menu with a bang. The covering leaf tied with streamers and decorated with gold leaf undoubtedly has cultural and/or regligious significance we're not aware of. Underneath were five flower pods each filled with delicious morsels. One contained shoyu-mirin braised minnows. Others featured a slice of abalone, tempura hamo eel, lotus seed with aspic, shitake mushroom, etc.
Sweet fig soup is a surprising follow-up to the previous appetizers. The figs have been cooked in syrup until softened and fallen apart into strings speckled with seeds. The clean, sweet flavors of the fruit made for a fine contrast with the more savory appetizers before.
The origin of kaiseki cuisine was a light meal to accompany the tea ceremony, and the soup recreates that spirit most directly. 茶碗湯 featured a iron teapot packed with big chunks of pricey matsutake mushrooms and chunks of hamo eel to infuse the light but flavorful broth. Pour some broth into the teacup, a squeeze of Japanese lime, and savor each sip.
The maple branches adds a living, organic touch to the arrangement on the miniature sashimi boat. Not really able to identify all the different types of sashimi (I think there was definitely a tai of some sort), but I'm sure everything is rare and local and definitely quite tasty. Love the multi-colored tail of the fresh ebi-sashimi.
All the frou-frou appetizers were beautiful to look at, but didn't add up to a whole lot in terms of actual food volume. The big plate full of nigiri-sushi provided plenty of bulk, however. The hamo-zushi uses the Kyoto-specialty hamo eel instead of the conventional unagi eel, brushed with the sweet mirin-soy sauce and grilled. The rice perfectly cooked and still warm, unlike the cold vinegar rice of typical nigiri-sushi. Just sticky enough to hold together while maintaining the texture of each grain, to complement the chewier and less fatty hamo. On the side was a small jar of mintaiko and edamame. Not so strongly fishy like the typical heavily marinated, red-colored mintaiko.
Uncovering the bamboo's top reveals a simple arrangement. A slice of lotus root, a single shrimp, a piece of fish. Steamed inside the bamboo section. One might consider it bland and boring. But for the price we're paying let's say it perfectly maintained the delicate flavors of the original ingredients.
Next is hamo shabu-shabu. Are we seeing a theme in the menu yet? Hamo is a long, bony fish, and it's no mean trick to fillet it into the delicate, thin slices. Each slice is to be cooked quickly in kombu broth.The firm flesh of the fish scrunches up into a perfectly formed cluster upon hitting the hot broth, thanks to the fine knifework. The shabu pot is an ingenious contraption with a stick of smoldering charcoal on one side heating the copper vessel, the wall of which is exposed to heat the broth half of the single-serving pot. This must have been how they did shabu-shabu before the advent of gas-powered hot plates. Just a single piece of knotted kombu kelp was enough to imbue an amazing amount of flavor into the broth. A yuzu-flavored dipping sauce provides bright, fruity acidity for the cooked fish.
We could smell the pungent smoke even before the server entered with the big tray. Thank goodness there was no smoke alarm in our room as the smoldering bancha tea leaves would've triggered quite a racket otherwise. Ayu is another typical Japanese summer fish found the in the rivers near Kyoto. The fish had been salt-grilled before being placed on the smoking contraption. The tea-smoke and the fish innards add a bitter tone to the meat that Asian folks all seem to like as one goes crunching into the little fishies.
At first I thought it was just a hamo fish soup. Then I dug into the bowl and found that there was freshly cooked white rice at the bottom. I've always been impressed with how good plain white rice could be in Japan, even in the most non-descript fast-food places like Yoshinoya. And fine Japanese rice cooked by a master chef in the traditional manner makes the gohan into an essential component of the dish. Break up the soft-cooked egg, and then slurp away to get soup, rice, and egg in each big mouthful. On the side is a bowl of 漬物 pickles. Kyoto summer vegetables lightly pickled just enough to infuse a bit of acidity and salt, but retaining the freshness and flavor of the obsessively perfect vegetables that one finds Japan.
The post-dinner fruit course is expected, but was certainly not going to be merely slices of cut fruit. A whole grapefruit, hollowed out and refilled with a soft gelatin made from the juice. This ain't Bill Cosby's Jello. The entire citrus essence of the grapefruit rendered from the meat and juices then returned to its original home in a more easily consumed home. Not as sharply icy as a sorbet, but serves the same palate-cleansing function. The gelatin retains the hint of grapefruit bitterness, to be moderated as needed with the accompanying simple syrup.
Now for the real dessert, in the style of Japanese tea ceremony and its accompanying wagashi sweets. Style and taste is the thing over quantity here. Red bean paste is packed into a section of bamboo. The finely ground red bean paste is compacted into the bamboo section almost like a glue-stick, except much tastier. The smooth paste has a delicate taste without the overwhelming sweetness that's sometimes found in other anko fillings. Yuzu gelee candy is alongside. The thoughtfulness extended to the engineering aspect of the presentation, as they punched a breathing hole in the other end of the bamboo section so you can suck out the anko filling easily without forming a counter-acting vacuum suction. A small dish of finely whisked macha green tea balanced the sweetness.
Most of the dishes were similar to things we've had before in other Japanese restaurants, but everything was done to such a high-level of refinement that it was obviously a cut above. It would have been even better if we could've learned more about the ingredients and thoughts that went into the dishes, but that's our fault for not speaking the language. Although the hostess did call someone on her cell phone to translate for us, but that was just too much trouble and we declined. We had the room to ourselves for the whole evening and took our entire meal without seeing any other diners, as if the entire restaurant was devoted to us only. Which was probably the point. Good thing wife and I had plenty to talk about after our day's touring, and the big room let me spread out and carefully photograph each dish. So much so that the hostess actually asked if I were a food writer on assignment. After the meal, the hostess and the server escort us all the way out the door. Thankfully the bus stop was far enough down the street so they didn't see us taking the cheap bus instead of hailing a taxi like most of their upscale clientele. It was certainly worthwhile to experience expert kaiseki cuisine in its home setting. But given the pricey bill it won't be something we'll indulge again anytime soon. So thanks to the wife for being willing to skimp a bit on fancy hotels and transportation for extra budgeting on food (for me) and souvenirs (for her).
京懐石 吉泉
日本京都府京都市左京区下鴨森本町５
5 Tadasu-no-mori (Morimoto-cho), Shimogamo, Sakyo-ku, Kyoto
075-711-6121
http://www.kichisen-kyoto.com